


--and Tomorrow?

by generalzero



Series: This Is the Other Story [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: AU, Adventure, All seven years, Angst, Anxiety, Child Abuse, Culture Shock, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Fire-forged Friends, Friendship, Gaslighting, Gen, Genderfluid Character, Humor, Lies, Manipulation, Mountain Trolls, Narcissistic mother, Neglect, Non-Linear Narrative, Quidditch, RIP the Ford Anglia, Slytherin!Harry, Verbal Abuse, What-If, isolation tactics, woc!Hermione
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-26
Updated: 2018-02-20
Packaged: 2018-11-05 01:26:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 8
Words: 5,809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11003094
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/generalzero/pseuds/generalzero
Summary: Seven of the miracles that help an emotionally-abused Harry Potter believe in the world and himself again. [A Companion to This Is the Other Story]





	1. Prologue: Year One

**Author's Note:**

> You should definitely read “This Is the Other Story” before reading this, as that piece reveals important details about Harry’s pre-Hogwarts childhood.
> 
> I'm continuing with somewhat of an experimental style here, so do let me know what works and doesnt as far as storytelling goes.
> 
> This expansion will, unlike the “This Is the Other Story”, include my full headcanons/ships/etc. for this concept, so be ready for things like AU-events/deaths, Severitus, LGBT+ and racial representation, as well as whatever else occurs to me as I flesh out the world.
> 
> Please leave comments!
> 
> Warning: Expect everything you saw in This Is the Other Story, likely in more explicit detail. First few chapters are pretty chill, though. Heed the tags.
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter and JK Rowling can take my money any time she wants.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, to avoid TLDR syndrome, I do my author's notes at the end of each chapter. I make them fun and funny and they usually have behind the scenes info. However, for this story in particular I urge you to read them because I will be including RED FLAGS--pointing out abusive behaviors or behaviors that abused children typically display. I'm not a psychologist or social worker but I've done the research, folks. Obviously I will disclaim: not every abused child shows these behaviors, and not every child who shows these behaviors is being abused. However, nearly all of the behaviors I point out as abusive are abusive regardless of victim or situation. There are rare exceptions, such as my first red flag about hugging: if a child does not want to be hugged or touched then it is of course not acceptable to do so, although you should probably investigate the motives behind such reluctance. (There are perfectly innocent reasons for a child not wanting physical contact, such as having a sensory issue with it a la some autistic folk.)

The problem with pretending everything is fine is that eventually you get good enough at lying that you actually believe it. You grow up learning that the world is one way, and then one day a posh-looking letter slips through the mail slot and suddenly, all the rules have changed and nobody's waiting for you to catch up. You've got to learn on your feet, stay alert.

The point is not that Harry doesn't notice the other mums and dads at the platform hugging their children good-bye, because he _does_. The point is that Aunt Petunia is telling him to make her proud and Harry is scrambling to figure out how he's going to become a great wizard when he doesn't know how to write with a quill and he's still not sure how to hold his wand. The train is whistling too loudly and the crowd is pushing past too roughly and Harry feels like his life has not ceased it's breakneck pace for even a minute since the letter arrived—and Harry's not even at the school yet.

But Harry is going to make Aunt Petunia proud, so he shakes off the uncertainty like it was never there and buries the image of the other families' heartfelt goodbyes in the graveyard at the back of his mind. It's the place where he banishes everything he can't think about if he wants the world to continue making sense. Like how angry Aunt Petunia got when Dudley interrupted her explanation of the magical world to ask why she never told them before. It all goes into the graveyard, and the longer it stays there, the easier it is to pretend it never happened. He's fine.

The point is… Harry Potter is associated with a lot of graveyards.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> RED FLAGS  
> 1\. Aunt Petunia not hugging Harry (or Dudley) ever is a sign of emotional neglect. Humans in general but especially children need physical contact and encouragement from the adults in their lives. Not receiving it can cause emotional problems as well as leaving children without an example of what appropriate physical contact with adults should be. The latter is not addressed in this story but obviously very dangerous.  
> 2\. The metaphor about graveyards is referring to Harry's tendency to psychologically repress facts and memories that threaten his worldview (ie. that Aunt Petunia loves him and can do no wrong). Repression is a common but extremely unhealthy coping mechanism for people in many kinds of traumatic or stressful situations. Think of it as your subconscious taking out a huge high interest loan that you don't make payments on until your brain decides you can afford to pay it back. Once you leave the situation which caused the repression, repressed memories, emotions and even physical pain can come back unexpectedly and whether it is immediately or ten years down the line, they always come back with interest.


	2. Blaise Zabini

Harry Potter is not sure how he feels about Blaise Zabini.

For one thing, Harry is fairly sure that Zabini only hangs around Harry out of a desire to irritate Draco Malfoy. Zabini, Harry has determined after two months in the same House and classes and dorm with him, is very concerned about being either completely indifferent or completely contrary—sometimes both at once. So Zabini sticks to Harry like glue (or like a sticking charm? Is the idiom different in the wizarding world?) because Malfoy has decided for everyone in first year that Harry should be ignored unless he, Malfoy, deems otherwise. (Malfoy is, generally speaking, a prat, but that's a whole other dilemma.)

On the other hand, Zabini's kinda funny, and having him around means Harry doesn't have to work up the courage to ask someone to be his partner in classes. Furthermore, Zabini has lived in the wizarding world since birth: Harry can watch him for queues and learn how real wizards act. Really, now that Harry thinks about it, they both have selfish reasons for being almost-friends. Maybe it's a Slytherin thing, Harry decides. (Hmm… he'll have to see about giving Malfoy a selfish reason not to be a prat.)

Harry only considers Zabini an _almost_ -friend because in all the books Harry devoured as a child a friend was someone who would stick by you through thick and thin—hell and high water—all the way to Mordor—to infinity and beyond… well, just, someone you could always depend on no matter what. Aunt Petunia always says people like that don't exist and why doesn't Harry try reading something more educational, like non-fiction? Maybe it's true, but Harry's still waiting for a friend to come along.

Back to Zabini, though. Harry almost feels like he should be taking notes, listing pros and cons. Pros: convenient, doesn't stare at Harry's scar. Cons: flighty, borrows Harry's textbooks and draws caricatures of the professors in the margins. Funny ones though.

But if Harry starts writing everything down he might as well buckle down and write that letter to Aunt Petunia he's been putting off. Aunt Petunia would know, certainly, what to make of Zabini. Aunt Petunia is a rock, awesome and imperturbable like Mt. Everest, and she always knows what to do. Harry wants to be just like her when he grows up—and well, maybe funny like Uncle Vernon, too. In order to get Aunt Petunia's opinion on Zabini, though, Harry first has to write to her about him—something that, despite his weekly letters home, Harry has consistently avoided doing.

Part of this is because Harry has the growing suspicion that Aunt Petunia would not approve of Zabini. He talks too loudly and extends his philosophy of indifferent contrariness (contrary indifference?) to their professors and to education in general, despite the House points it costs him. He draws on his arms with a sparkly magic quill he brought from home (it makes the doodles move!) and claims he's going to cover himself in tattoos when he grows up. Sometimes he wears skirts—the same pleated uniform ones the girls wear—instead of trousers and laughs at anyone who teases him about it. (Harry is personally burning with curiosity but considers it none of his business and doesn't ask.)

Another part of it is that Harry is not sure he could do anything to keep Zabini away if Aunt Petunia told him to do so (See: contrariness, above.) So Harry avoids the possible conflict by not writing home about Zabini, and keeping Zabini as much at arms length as he can.

That is, until the incident at Halloween.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> RED FLAGS  
> 1\. Harry feels guilty for not writing Aunt Petunia about Blaise because he has been raised without privacy or personal boundaries. Teaching a child not to lie is one thing, but telling them that omission of even minor details counts as lying and requiring them to report on their behavior at any given moment teaches them that they do not have a right to privacy or personal boundaries. This will eventually encourage higher than normal rates of deceptive and secretive behavior, as well as make children afraid to communicate for fear of punishment or being caught in "a lie" even in cases when they really should communicate (danger, inappropriate touch, illness, other people in danger or causing danger, etc.). Additionally, depending on your own moral code, not knowing how to tell social or "white" lies can be a problem, especially when trying to make friends.
> 
> Notes: Blaise is genderfluid and queer and will most likely come out in a spectacular fashion when they are older, but as the story is from Harry's point of view, "he" will continue as Blaise's pronoun because Harry doesn't know any different. As a genderfluid person I am lazily basing Blaise's identity on my own experiences, so please do not criticize their level of apparent disphoria/presentation/etc., although you may of course come at me for any internalized trans/queerphobia I may have let escape onto the page with regards to other characters.


	3. Hermione Granger

On the other hand, Harry knows exactly how he feels about Hermione Granger. It doesn't take sharing too many classes with her for Harry (and his whole year, atcually) to realize two things. One: Granger is very, very smart. Two: she is entirely too conscious of it.

Harry believes she's not really stuck-up; she's too friendly (really, seriously, _too_ friendly, almost desperately so). She's very generous with her knowledge, offering help to everyone—even when they don't necessarily want it. That's the crux of the matter, Harry thinks. (He found the word crux in one of his textbooks last week and likes it quite a lot.) Granger doesn't know when and when not to open her mouth.

She's a loner in her own house; Harry almost never sees her with company—unless you counted books of course. She spends a lot of time in the library studying. She is, Harry thinks, kind of a lot like him in those respects. (Harry doesn't count his personal leech Zabini as company.) Harry has not been able to find any further signs of personality in Granger, though. She's not funny like Zabini; she's not really interesting at all. Certainly not someone Harry would consider 'friend' material. Harry knows, however, that Granger is someone Aunt Petunia would approve of in every single way, probably down to the way she organizes her things neatly on her desk before beginning to take notes, and Harry thinks she would make a good study partner.

As much as Harry would like to have a study partner who doesn't try to doodle on him with magic sparkly ink, not to mention a name to prove to Aunt Petunia that he is indeed socializing and adjusting well at Hogwarts, he does not approach Granger. This is because Granger is not only a Gryffindor but also some sort of wizarding untouchable—what the rest of the Slytherins call a "mudblood" in the same tone as Aunt Petunia says "that sort" when referring to the homeless folks who sleep in the park at the end of Privet Drive.

("Don't use that word, Harry," Blaise scolds lazily. "It's terribly common—Malfoy if you keep scowling your face will stick that way—and anyway, labeling someone with their blood status when they've got so many other traits to make fun of is just plain unoriginal.")

Harry doesn't much care about House rivalries or completely understand the wizarding obsession with bloodlines, but he doesn't want to associate with Granger if the price for doing so is waking up in the middle of the night to the wizarding version of a wet-willy or worse from the other boys in his dorm (Zabini included, probably, just for the fun of it). So Harry doesn't sit next to Granger in the library when he goes to study, and he writes her off as a somewhat dull could-have-been, nothing more.

That is, until the incident at Halloween.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> RED FLAGS  
> 1\. Harry not considering "his personal leech Zabini" as company is a subtle behavior learned from his parents: he doesn't have to treat other people as people unless they are important to him. Obviously this is not a conscious choice or something that an eleven year old can articulate. Actually, most people can't articulate it because this viewpoint is the foundation of most bias and bigotry, and people tend to be remarkably immune to noticing their own prejudices and the reasons behind their prejudiced behaviors. Children learn prejudice by watching the adults around them: note Harry's conscious ability to decipher that mudbloods are "untouchable" because of the familiarity between how Slytherins use it and how Aunt Petunia uses her own language to designate homeless folks as "untouchable" to Harry. Children are entirely capable of making these connections, which is why it is important to think about the language you use around them.
> 
> Notes: Hermione is black, and almost certainly faces additional prejudice at Hogwarts because of it. However, I am not familiar with how racism expresses itself in Britain, and will be relying mostly on Rowling's blood status allegory (even though I'm not sure she ever thought that far into it—rant for another time) to talk about bigotry in this story. As a white person I invite all readers to come at me if I fuck up.


	4. Things Harry Does Not Write Home About, Part 1

His Fame

  
Harry catches up to the wizarding world as quickly as he can. He's too shy to do anything but read on the train but that doesn't stop him from attracting attention from people who've heard that the famous Harry Potter is on board. Harry takes note: the Voldemort thing is a bigger deal than he previously thought. People stare at him. To be particular, they stare at his scar. Perhaps that's something he can use later?

* * *

Voldemort

  
The sorting is a source of a host of new information. Houses are very important social groups: Harry is sure there will be lots of related rules to learn for them. Also, mind-reading hats are a thing, which kind of creeps Harry out. Most importantly though: as big a deal the Voldemort thing is, being sorted into Slytherin is almost as bad. None of the other new Slytherins get the same shocked hush, and awkward, faltering applause that Harry receives, so he supposes the reaction must have something to do with the Voldemort thing. A lot of things seem to trace back to the Voldemort thing, which is frustrating because Harry has yet to get a thorough accounting of it. If only Aunt Petunia weren't a muggle, then she would know, and she'd tell Harry.

* * *

Quidditch

  
Quidditch is a wonderful, wonderful game. Harry's never really gone in for sports before—that's Dudley's forte—and it's not really the sport that captivates him now. It's the flying. He feels so free, weightless and uncatchable… It's a little ironic, he thinks, that riding a broomstick at reckless speeds and deadly heights should be so relaxing, but it is.

Aunt Petunia's reaction is mixed. Harry thought she was pleased, especially since in his letter explaining how he got on the Slytherin team he minimized the slight rule infraction and stressed the fact that he was going to be the youngest player in a century (and didn't mention at all that his real father had apparently played the game, too). Aunt Petunia even insists on buying him the most expensive broom on the market to help him play better, although she warned him not to let his grades slip even in the slightest. But when Harry gets permission to have his family come see his first game (Professor Snape is uncharacteristically accommodating: Harry takes care to ask him when Professor McGonagall is in earshot and able to fume jealously) Aunt Petunia says "maybe next time"—and on the third "maybe next time" Harry stops writing home about Quidditch.

* * *

Hagrid

  
Harry runs into Hagrid by accident. He took to doing his reading down by the lake early in the semester, fond of the quiet, and one day the giant squid ("WHYYYYY IS THERE A GIANT SQUID IN THE LAAAAKE!?!?!") snuck a tentacle through the strap on Harry's bag while he was engrossed in Hogwarts: A History and pulled it into the lake. Harry went chasing after it, and Hagrid appeared to drag him out of the water when Harry fell off a steep drop off along the bank. ("Yer gotta bring him a treat, the greedy lil thing, or 'e plays trick on ye.") From that point on, Harry either brings a sandwich from the Great Hall with him as a peace offering or takes Hagrid up on the invitation to stop by his cabin. The gameskeeper is kind-hearted and an incurable gossip, and Harry enjoys stopping by for tea (no rock-cakes), especially as the weather grows colder and studying by the lake is no longer comfortable. One look around the one-room habitation, however—with its hanging furs, cluttered shelves, greasy floor and slobbery dog—ensures that Harry is never breathing a word of his visits here to Aunt Petunia.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> RED FLAGS  
> 1\. Blatantly faking interest or showing no interest in your child's life or accomplishments is a form of emotional abuse. Aunt Petunia's refusal to participate in Harry's life as a wizard (shown here with her failure to show up to his quidditch matches) is further damaging because it implies her disapproval of his identity. Aunt Petunia may even feel she is supporting Harry by buying him an expensive broom, but giving gifts as a substitute for all other forms of affection is an unhealthy behavior for both giver and receiver and such gifts quickly lose all meaning. Feeling like the people you love are uninterested or unimpressed by your dreams and accomplishments is devastating, especially for children.  
> 2\. Generally, the desire to fly or be extremely fast tends to symbolize a desire for freedom or escape. Obviously not every person who wants to drive a racecar or wishes to be able have flight as their superpower is in an abusive or unpleasant life situation, and on the other hand, who doesn't dream of flying away from their responsibilities and problem sometimes? However, in canon there is some evidence that Harry is not as enamored with quidditch per-say as with the ability to fly, and in this headcanon he shares my personal childhood dreams of flying *away*.
> 
> Notes: Since Hagrid was not the one to take Harry to Diagon Alley, and Petunia is obviously not entirely knowledgeable or forthcoming about the wixen world, Harry knows only the barest basics of his history with Voldemort and resulting fame upon arriving at Hogwarts. As he is a reasonably clever boy and also a true Slytherin, he is hesitant to trust the gossip of his peers; hence his frustration at not having gotten "a thorough accounting" of it. Also, I couldn't not have Harry befriend Hagrid, so… you get cutesy Giant Squid meeting.
> 
> I am a fan of Snape and McGonagall's unironic quidditch rivarly, which is an older fandom trope that became sharply less popular after the six/seventh books came out and fandom coverage of Snape began to focus on how romantic and tragic he is. I am all here for one of the most brilliant literary twists in history (kudos, Rowling), but I am a little tired of the resulting Draco-in-leather-pants treatment Snape receives because of it.


	5. Miracle #1: A Twelve Foot Mountain Troll

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "There are some things you can't share without ending up liking each other, and knocking out a twelve foot mountain troll is one of them."
> 
> \--Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone, Chapter 10: Halloween

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> RED FLAGS: (a lot in this chapter so I had to split it)  
> 1\. Harry's constant "grinding of facts and observations" so that he doesn't miss anything "useful or dangerous" is called hyperviligance and is a direct sign of a person who chronically feels that their safety is at risk. Young children unconsciously understand that their safety is dependent on their parents. (In fact, some people argue that the moment you lose your innocence is when you realize your parents cannot protect you from everything/someday will not be around to do so.) The highest danger children can comprehend is therefore absence of their parents' protection. What are the reasons a parent might not protect you? A) They aren't present: children fear getting lost. B) They don't love you: children fear abandonment. How do you make a child think you'll abandon them? Show them your love is conditional, that their worth as a person is dependent on their accomplishments/appearance/etc., punish them harshly for the slightest infractions… and so on. A child who shows signs of hypervigilance is a huge red flag for abuse.  
> 2\. Harry does not truly trust any other adult than Aunt Petunia (and probably Vernon, but since Vernon exists only under Petunia's tyranny, Harry probably has unconscious doubts about his uncle's personal autonomy). This is a sign that a child has either been told not to trust other adults or has been betrayed by one in a significant enough manner for it to become a worldview. People tend to unconsciously trust figures of authority, and for children in modern society (well, for my generation, anyway) *every* adult is an authority figure. While such a social norm is certainly ripe for abuse, it serves a somewhat useful function in smoothing over everyday interactions (do you ask to see your doctor's medical school transcript before letting them treat you? Or ask to see your uber driver's license before getting in the car?)—and for a child to consciously mistrust their teachers, especially in a boarding school where teachers are the only authority figures the child regularly encounters, is highly unusual. In Harry's case, Petunia has taught him with word and behavior that she is the only reliable, trustworthy person in the world.  
> 3\. Though he cannot articulate this, Harry is deeply unsettled by the Sorting Hat and Snape's "supposed" ability to read minds (*wink wink*) because he has been raised in a situation where the only truly sacred boundary is his skull. Harry's thoughts are the only thing Harry knows belong to him and not to Aunt Petunia.  
> 4\. It's subtle, but Harry not wanting to return home is not just due to Hogwarts being awesome; it's also an unconscious admission that Harry feels safer/more comfortable there than at home (despite the odd troll encounter, apparently).  
> 5\. Harry is not allowed to call Aunt Petunia mother or mum, while at the same time he is allowed no acknowledgment of or information about his actual mother. Additionally, he is encouraged to consider Dudley his brother and Uncle Vernon his dad. This is damaging because it sends the message that Harry doesn't deserve to be considered Aunt Petunia's son. He personally thinks of Aunt Petunia as his mother, hence the mental and occasional vocal slip up, despite Petunia's negative reaction to it. I have personal experience with this problem despite my mother being alive and in my life for 12 years. If you think it's unlikely that Harry is still slipping up after so many years, count the times you've accidentally called a teacher "mom" and then imagine if she actually *was* your mom.  
> 

"Troll—in the dungeons—thought you ought to know."

The moment Prof. Quirrell faints the entire Great Hall erupts into chaos; Harry winces at the sound of quite a few of his year-mates shrieking. He grips the edge of the table, his fingertips turning white. "Trolls are a thing, then?" he says, voice slightly higher that usual. Every time he thinks he's got this wizard thing handled, something comes along and bowls him over again.

Next to Harry, Zabini has begun seizing sticky deserts from the platters arrayed before them and stuffing them into several plastic bags with a determined haste. (Aunt Petunia packed a box of them in Harry's trunk and Zabini was so enchanted with them that Harry had gifted them to him.) Zabini answers without looking up from his work. "Yes, trolls are a thing. Huge, ugly, stupid blokes. Very mean."

Harry stared as Zabini switched from deserts to candies, stuffing them into his deep skirt pockets. "What are you doing?"

"Taking advantage of the situation."

Harry has already become well-acquainted with Zabini's prodigious appreciation for Hogwart's excellent food, as well as his equally prodigious sweet-tooth, but if this is his first reaction upon hearing that there was a troll in the castle, Harry thinks maybe Zabini needs to reconsider his priorities a bit. Now was not the time for contrariness or indifference.

"There's a _troll in the castle_ , you know," Harry presses, just in case the other boy had somehow misunderstood.

"Yes, and who knows how long the feast will be delayed because of it?"

"Do you take anything seriously?"

Zabini turns to look Harry with wide, earnest eyes and Harry cannot tell if the expression is a mask or not. "Yes I do, Potter. Things like candy. Now help me out: I wanna steal that caramelized jack o'lantern."

* * *

Earlier that day the Slytherins and Gryffindors are leaving a Charms class in which Granger has been particularly "helpful" when she rushes past Harry, with her kinky locks and bag flying gracelessly behind her, and leaving whispers in her trail. Harry can hear "mudblood", "know-it-all" and "nightmare" among them.

Blaise turns to Harry. "Pinch me, I'm dreaming."

"Why?"

Blaise gestures discretely with his chin at the red-headed Gryffindor who's just accused Granger of being a nightmare. "Because I just agreed with a Weasely. Miss Leviosaaah was a right headache today. "

Harry frowns, uncomfortable. "They don't have to make a big deal about it though… I think she was crying."

"So? Maybe she'll learn some tact, if that's possible for a Gryffindor."

Harry raises an eyebrow at Zabini, who currently has a very rude sonnet about Professor Flitwick dancing down the olive skin of his left arm in sparling ink. The good-natured professor had been impressed by its 'iambic pentameter' (Ravenclaws and their trivia, Harry thought) and so Zabini only lost Slytherin twenty points instead of thirty.

"You," Harry says emphatically, "should not be saying _anything_ about tact."

* * *

Harry and Zabini are already lagging behind the mass of Slytherins and Hufflepuffs headed for the Infirmary on the third floor (as sending them all downstairs in the direction of the troll was deemed unwise by their heads of houses), each with pockets and bags loaded with stolen bits of feast and arms laden with a large carmelized jack o'lantern that takes both of them to carry (and is getting heavier every minute), when they reach one of the staircases with a trick-step. Everyone else stumbles through it (or leaps over it, as memory and dexterity permit), eager to get as far away from the dungeons as possible.

Harry and Zabini stagger to a stop. The jack o'lantern snaps its teeth and leers at them. "We're never gonna hop the gap with this thing…" Harry says.

Zabini huffs, but can't deny the truth. "We're not leaving it behind after all the trouble of nicking the thing. And we'll be kings of the common room when we manage to bring it back."

Harry bites his lip. He has to admit that after lugging it this far, he doesn't want to leave the warm, delicious smelling dessert behind, either. And their plan to deny Malfoy any of the spoils when sharing in the common room holds it own allure, as well. "Could we stash it somewhere and come back later?"

Zabini's eyes light up. "There's a girls' bathroom on this floor that nobody ever uses! We can hide it there."

At the mention of the girls' loo, Harry forgets all about the jack o'lantern. His mind jumps immediately to a piece of information he's picked up from always keeping one ear on the rumor mill. His mind is always alert like that, ceaselessly grinding facts and observations together until something catches that could be useful or dangerous. This particular conclusion definitely lands in the 'danger' category.

"Granger doesn't know about the troll," he says, mind already rushing to work out the implications this could have.

"What?"

"Granger. She spent the whole afternoon in the bathroom off the Great Hall crying, and she wasn't at the feast. Pansy was gossiping about it before Quirrell showed up." Harry explains, seized with a sense of urgency. He doesn't know why he feels it: he is not in danger, after all. Yet. "We have to go get her."

Zabini blinks, glances down at the jack o'lantern between them, then back up at Harry. "What about the—"

"Blaise!" Harry shocks both Blaise and himself into silence—more with the use of Blaise's first name than the sharp tone. Harry's impatient; his whole psyche is screaming that he has to do something before it's too late and everything is his fault. If the troll gets the Granger girl and Harry knew in time to save her… Harry takes a bit of a breath and continues more softly. "She could be in danger."

"So you're gonna go charge in and rescue her? Are you some kind of Gryffindor now?"

Harry looks at Blaise sternly. "I'm dropping my side of the pumpkin in three counts. One."

"Come on! I'm sure the teachers will take care of it."

Harry almost snorts. He doesn't trust the teachers with something like this. Aunt Petunia always says that if you want something done you should do it yourself. "The same teachers who didn't notice us steal a jack o'lantern and carry it out of the Great Hall? Two."

Blaise gestures upstairs as best he can with no free hands. "We're supposed to be with the other Slytherins—you know, the people who don't help Gryffindors or rush into danger like headless chickens?"

"Since when do _you_ care about what you're _supposed_ to do?" Harry challenges.

Blaise frowns, elegant eyebrows knitting together momentarily as he considers this. Then they release their tension with an equally elegant little shrug, and Blaise drops the pumpkin, surprising Harry. It shatters into several chunks and splatters globs of caramel and pumpkin-flesh on their robes.

"Fair enough," is all Blaise says in explanation. He gestures back down the corridor towards the Great Hall. "Lead on." He pauses, considering, then adds: "…Harry."

* * *

"Who knew Miss Leviosah has been a Slytherin this whole time!" Blaise whispers ecstatically later that night in the dorm showers. Blaise evidently enjoys an adrenaline high as much as a sugar rush, and Harry—who decidedly does not enjoy either one—is tempted to mention what a Gryffindor-ish trait it is. Instead he just sighs into the hot water steaming through his shower stall and continues rubbing shampoo into the congealed mix of squashed candy and troll boogeys in his hair.

"Lying does not automatically make someone a Slytherin, you know."

Blaise snorts from the other stall. "Don't tell me you didn't notice the way she played McGonagall. Had the old cat wrapped around her finger with a splash of tears and a pinch of noble self-sacrifice. Bloody brilliant manipulator that girl is, all hidden behind the goody-two-shoes frown and the anxious hair."

"Snape didn't believe a word of it," Harry warns. The suspicion in their Head of House's eyes had been plain.

Blaise's tone gorws slightly uneasy, although Harry knows Blaise doesn't share his reservations or fears concerning the taciturn professor. They're both scheduled to meet with him—separately—on Monday night after classes to "discuss the incident".

"Well, you know, she doesn't have any proper training, and she _is_ a Gryffindor. In her place I probably would've claimed the two of us lured her in there for a laugh. That would be more plausible. Besides, it takes more than verve and talent to pull a fast one on Snape. The man can probably read minds."

" _What_ —" Harry begins flatly, terrified that actual people in the wizarding world might have the same unsettling ability the Sorting Hat does.

"Joking! I'm joking," Blaise corrects quickly, accustomed to Harry's anxieties. "…although now that I think about it…"

Harry slaps his hands on the tiled wall between them. "Zabini! Don't do this to me! You do realize we still have to explain ourselves on Monday? He's gonna see right through us!" Now that Harry has allowed his brain to predict unpleasant possibilities, he suddenly finds he can't stop: "And he'll probably tell Filch we were the ones who smashed the pumpkin on the staircase. What if we get expelled?!"

It's only been two months and already Harry can not imagine going back home and never returning to Hogwarts. Aunt Petunia would be so disappointed I him. Oh no, what is he supposed to say in his next letter? How do you explain a mountain troll to your muggle moth—your muggle aunt? "Aunt Petunia's gonna be so mad," Harry groans, pressing the heels of his palms into his eye sockets.

A brief touch on his shoulder jerks Harry back to the present. Blaise's soapy head is poked around the shower wall, looking surprisingly earnest. "Don't worry. We're not getting expelled. Snape can't read minds, or else he would've caught the Weasely Twins for mailing him that firecracker at breakfast last week. Mrs. Norris and Filch are probably having a right jolly party licking the pumpkin off the flagstones together, and your aunt…" Blaise's shrug is somehow visible despite his shoulders being out of sight. "You just took on a slimy smelly mountain troll. What can she do that could possibly be worse?"

A lot, Harry thinks. The things that come to mind don't actually sound as bad as they are, though, so he keeps them to himself and nods. Blaise retreats back to his stall. Harry does feel a little better, he realizes, although the sentiment seems to have more to do with Blaise himself than his overconfident reassurances. Harry feels a smile tug at the corner of his mouth as flashes of the evening replay in his mind: Blaise dropping the pumpkin and following him into danger, Blaise throwing fistfuls of candy at the troll to distract it--even Hermione snatching Blaise's wand away from him to charm the troll's club because Blaise still could not get "leviosaaahh" right…

"Hey Za—Blaise. We're… friends, right?"

Blaise's head swings back around the corner and he quirks at eyebrow at Harry. "Obviously."

The grin hiding in Harry's cheeks blooms brilliantly. A real friend. This is a momentous occasion. Thinking for a moment about how he should commemorate it, Harry immediately decides on something to reflect the true spirit of their relationship. "Well then you should know, that as your concerned friend, I asked Granger to come study with us. It's pretty clear your 'leviosa' needs work."

"WHAT?!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> RED FLAGS cont.  
> 6\. What *can* Aunt Petunia do to Harry that's worse than a twelve foot mountain troll? Especially if she's not physically or sexually abusing him? A lot, and it can be difficult for abused children to articulate exactly what and how bad it is because they were raised to consider their own situation normal. Imagine all the times in canon that Ron must have told Harry "Oh, mum loves yelling at me"—and that what this looks like is mainly "RONALD WEASLEY DON'T YOU EVER SCARE ME LIKE THAT AGAIN…" and so on for a little bit until he says sorry and has to weed the garden or something. (Although, Mrs. Weasely, publicly humiliating your son with a howler in front of his whole school *is* abuse.) So this tells Harry that its normal for parents to yell when you do something wrong—but what if when Aunt Petunia yells, Harry isn't allowed to speak or explain himself, and he has to stand at attention while she yells *for two hours*, and if she runs out of steam on whatever his current crime is she will bring up every one of his previous ones, and once he's finally dismissed it's his own fault he missed dinner and has no time to finish his homework? Harry has no way to know this is not normal, so the fact that it bothers Harry must be because Harry is too sensitive—and that *is* worse than a mountain troll.
> 
> Notes: Harry mentally freaks out when learning new things about the wixen world (see: trolls, mind-reading) because he has anxiety. This is perfectly normal thing to experience upon being dropped abruptly into a completely new culture (scratch that, new *world*, complete with changes to the laws of physics!) without any adult guidance or orientation period. (Insert dissertation on how the pureblood stereotype of muggleborns having less magic probably stems from the fact that they are systemically disadvantaged from the age of eleven—interrupt with comments about how real world metrics like IQ, literacy and likelihood of graduating from college depending on whether your parents also went to college and are part of the upper or middle class—okay I'll stop…) In Harry's particular case, his anxiety is heightened by the need to be seen as perfect by Aunt Petunia and thus avoid punishment.
> 
> Also note Harry's progress with regards to learning/unlearning bigotry: he doesn't defend Hermione from her classmates, but he knows it's not right to make her cry, and immediately goes to her defense with the troll as in canon. In contrast with canon (or not? Does Rowling seem to discourage or encourage House rivalry in the early books? Discuss.) Harry is learning very quickly to categorize even universal behavior as belonging to one House or another, seen when he disapproves of Blaise's Gryffindor recklessness (pot and the kettle, anyone?) and disdaining Flitwick's Ravenclaw appreciation for trivia.
> 
> Feedback: So how do yall feel about the headcanons? Does Harry seems Slytherin enough? What do you want to see more of?
> 
> Also, a thought on memes—  
> Blaise: "move, I'm gay"  
> Harry: "look at it, it has anxiety"  
> Hermione: "me, an intellectual"


	6. Prologue: Year Two

The problem with pretending everything is fine is that you never make a move to defend yourself. You're just trying to survive and keep out of the way, but somehow things still end up being your fault. You're the world's scapegoat and you don't question it. Nobody ever taught you otherwise.

The point is not that Aunt Petunia doesn't lift a finger to stop Dudley and Harry from taking out a year's worth of separation anxiety on each other in increasingly vicious ways—two upset pre-teen boys can't be expected to talk through negative issues without adult's guidance. "Why can't you be more like your cousin?" becomes the newest version of "Why can't you show a little more responsibility?" Put this away, keep that straight, no rude questions, no mistakes, be good. All Harry knows is that Dudley hates him now, and the relief he expected to feel upon arriving home for the summer hasn't come.

The point is not that Harry has no proof that Dobby is the one who dropped a cake on Uncle Vernon's Important Business Prospect's Wife's Head—because Aunt Petunia decides that he did it. Harry and Dudley were both grounded after yet another fight got on Vernon's nerves, and Harry can see why the cake would look like a vengeful prank that hit an unintended recipient. So he sends his anger to the graveyard and admits to making everything up.

The point is not that Dobby stole all Harry's letters from Blaise and Hermione—because Harry didn't expect any letters in the first place. Harry doesn't write any himself; Aunt Petunia would want to read them before letting him use Drillbit, the "family" owl. (He's Petunia's owl.) When he arrives at Hogwarts for his second year, Harry is jaded by Dudley's betrayal and frightened by Dobby's warnings; he pushes his two almost-friends away because it's easier to continue thinking they forgot all about him. That way, things (Harry) will be consistent (alone) and the world will make sense. Soon the "Heir of Slytherin" chaos provides enough distraction to make it easier to exile his guilt to the graveyard. He wishes he could send the whole last year to the graveyard.

The point is… Aunt Petunia is right about the world being cruel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> RED FLAGS  
> 1\. Petunia allowing Dudley and Harry to abuse each other (and believe me in this headcanon Harry dishes out plenty of bullying too) would only be neglect if she didn't also actively encourage them to turn against each other by comparing them constantly. This is a type of abuse that occurs in forms from subtle to stark in nearly every household with multiple children. Abusive but especially narcissistic parents will play the favorites game with their children because the result is almost invariably that the children will hate their sibling for representing impossible standards and themselves for not achieving those standards—leaving the only person who gets any love in this equation the parent.  
> 2\. Now, every child fibs sometimes to get out of trouble, but chronically and constantly assuming a child is lying is a form of abuse called gaslighting. Aunt Petunia "deciding" that Harry is lying about the cake and Harry going along with it is a pattern of interaction that will eventually cause Harry to doubt his own perception of reality in favor of Petunia's—she's literally driving him to question his own sanity.  
> 3\. Harry doesn't expect letters from his friends because no one has ever modeled healthy friendship or healthy communication for him.  
> 4\. Aunt Petunia reading Harry's hypothetical letters is another example of her restricting his privacy. Parents should never read their children's texts/diaries/emails/etc. or go through their things without permission (nor should they make a child feel like they can't *not* give permission). This is teaching them that they do not deserve privacy. How else are parents supposed to know if their child is getting in trouble, you ask? If parents maintain a relationship with their children such that they're seen as sources of guidance rather than punishment, their children will volunteer the information freely when they are in trouble or considering doing troublesome things. (Easy test: If you had to have a password or a key to get in, you shouldn't be in, unless you were freely given the password or key. As far monitoring your child's social media—via following them from *your own* account—kids probably should learn that everything they put on the interwebs is *very* public, but don't be obnoxious. Remember, if they block you, you're out of luck.)
> 
> Notes: Harry and Dudley previously got on very well in this headcanon, as you may have surmised from *This Is the Other Story*, because Petunia's behavior in their early childhood was to treat them identically (which causes problems as children grow older and develop different needs) and feed them (and Vernon) the narrative that it is just them two against the world with her as their only protection. However, after Harry and Dudley go away to different schools and are separated for the first time in their lives, they grow up a little and then are upset to come back home and find their sibling has changed suddenly. Responsible parents give siblings the tools to deal with this constructively. Petunia does not.


	7. Draco Malfoy

Draco Malfoy may be a huge prat, and making an even bigger prat of himself running his mouth about this heir of Slytherin business, but from an objective perspective, Harry has to admit he's a good son. Malfoy talks about his father almost as much as Harry talks about Aunt Petunia. (This, in fact, is a point of contention between them, since every time Malfoy insists that a muggle woman couldn't possibly be all _that_ wonderful, Harry hexes him with the boils jinx Hermione taught him last year.) He and Malfoy even end up seeing each other in the owlery every Sunday; it takes Harry a bit to realize Draco sends home weekly letters, too.

Harry has not yet found a selfish reason for Malfoy to stop being a prat, but the antipathy from last year has lessened somewhat anyway. Malfoy buys his way onto the Slytherin quidditch team with a set of Nimbus 2002 racing brooms, even one for Harry—"strictly so you won't embarrass us, Potter"—and it seems that during practice and matches Malfoy can bring himself to forget that Harry is Harry and Harry can forget that Malfoy makes fun of Blaise's skirts. Harry's contribution to Slytherin's house cup last year may have softened Malfoy up a little, as well.

Malfoy rolls his eyes when Harry sheepishly passes on the thank-you card Aunt Petunia insisted on writing for him when she looked up the price of Harry's new broom and realized how wealthy the Malfoys were. ("It's never too early to start making the right sort of friends, Harry.")

"My father does not receive _muggle_ correspondence, Potter," Malfoy sneers. "Does your aunt write all your cards for you, then? Too famous to answer your fan mail yourself?"

Harry begins to sneer right back at Malfoy, but then an idea occurs to him. A Slytherin idea. "I can write my own letters, but Aunt Petunia thought a gift from someone like your father should receive a _proper_ card, hand-written, hand-delivered, like _proper_ folk do." Harry says the word _proper_ with the same important tone Aunt Petunia uses, and watches Malfoy preen slightly at the implied compliment to his father. "I guess I'll just send it back. It's a pity now she'll think wizards don't have any manners."

"Oh, give it here," Malfoy snaps and snatches the card. He opens it and peruses the careful script and expensive stationery. "Well, I guess muggles aren't completely devoid of culture." Harry manages to hold his tongue, and Malfoy drags them both back to the dorm, where he over-graciously allows Harry borrow some blank stationery to write Aunt Petunia's card over, this time from Harry Potter. Then Malfoy writes a gorgeous a letter back to Aunt Petunia and signs it "Lucius Malfoy" and follows with a long list of titles Harry is pretty sure Aunt Petunia will not recognize but be impressed by anyway. The letter is penned on official Malfoy stationery, and the family crest appears as a shimmering watermark that moves to wherever on the page the reader's eye is. (Kind of showy, in Harry's opinion, but impressive nonetheless.)

"Will she be able to read it?" Harry asks, worried about the magical paper.

Malfoy waves a hand dismissively. "Oh certainly. That's not the paper we use for important correspondence." Harry unwisely asks how many different kinds of paper a wizard could possibly need, and Malfoy responds with passionate, righteous lecture about it that Harry only escapes when they realize they are both ten minutes late for potions class.

At Christmas, Malfoy sends Harry a wizarding stationers' catalogue, with at least a dozen products marked as crucial for someone of Harry's blood status and social significance, and a note to "please refrain from replying until you've purchased the proper paper to do so."

So… still a prat, but, you know, tolerable.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> RED FLAGS  
> Um, none? Mostly its classism and bigotry stuff in this chapter.
> 
> Notes: Damn it, I'm going easy on Malfoy. But he's only twelve at this point. I was an ass (and racist) when I was twelve. Maybe we can save him, hm?
> 
> Harry noticing the similarities between himself and Malfoy is significant; you will see why by the end of Miracle #2.
> 
> Depending on your own stance on the duties of allyship, privilege and friendship, Harry getting along with racist/transphobic/etc. Malfoy who regularly insults Harry's friends can be either a step in the right direction or the wrong one. On one hand, the fastest way to end both casual and systemic prejudice is to ruthlessly denounce it every time you encounter it; on the other hand, compromising with your enemy can lead to them becoming your friend, and it's easier to correct a friend's behavior than an enemy's. Harry isn't really thinking about any of this, however. He just wants Malfoy to stop "being a prat"—which leads me to my final point: they're *twelve year olds*, reasonably privileged, and neither of them has a social justice education. Yes, Rowling made her children more heroic in canon; she also neglected to explicitly name the Dursely's behavior as abuse. Author's privilege at work.
> 
> Petunia did not buy Harry a Nimbus 2000 in his first year, although she got him a decently expensive broom. Maybe a professional Cleansweep, or something. I refuse to believe that McGonagall afforded Harry's broom in canon all out of her own salary either. Despite my fondness for the quidditchfanatic!McGonagall and the possibility that as a childless pureblood widow she might well have some sort of estate with which to throw money around, I maintain with my dying breath that she would not have sent the damn broom to Harry at the breakfast table in front of every other student! The blatant favoritism and extravagance rings too much of Dumbledore's interference to me. Okay, rant over.
> 
> Are thank-you cards a thing anymore? My fingers ache just thinking about them...
> 
> Harry is able to relate with Malfoy on a class level in this headcanon because Petunia is very classist herself, being in what I like to call the "white-picket-fence" middle class, and aspiring to appear just a tad richer than she actually is. Unlike in canon, where Harry is essentially impoverished despite the Dursely's being well off, in this story Harry has been raised with the same classist values and privileges Petunia—and Malfoy—has. Because Harry is clever, he is not just able to relate better with Malfoy but also use his Malfoy's dedication to his class to manipulate him. I'm not saying any of this is a good thing; it's just the logical result of not living in the broom closet.


	8. Things Harry Does Not Write Home About, Part 2

The Petrifications

There's a betting pool in the Slytherin common room concerning who is behind it all. Harry doesn't know who started the betting pool any more than he knows who is behind the petrifications, but the disillusionment charm that appears on it any time Professor Snape makes a dormitory inspection causes Harry assume it was an older student. It's mostly a joke, but one that everyone in Slytherin is in on, whether for a knut or a galleon. The suspects range from calculated to ridiculous—Harry doesn't know who Professor Trelawney is, but the older students cackle every time someone adds a sickle to her name.

Harry's own name is up there in what seems to be complete seriousness given the number of galleons next to it, something which annoys Malfoy almost as much as the fact that his name is not up there. Malfoy even demands that everyone in their year make a bet, perhaps hoping someone will nominate him, but his plans are ruined by none other than Crabbe and Goyle. What motivation the two of them have for nominating "the Dark Lord", Harry can't begin to guess, but there it is. Blaise finds this hilarious, and in typical Blaise fashion proceeds to nag the rest of them into joining in—even Malfoy, determined to save face by betting so much on Voldemort that the total exceeds Harry's.

Parseltongue

Harry is pretty sure Aunt Petunia would object to him dueling, but goes anyway just to watch. Unfortunately, Lockhart is teaching, so Harry ends up bartering with a highly amused Millicent Bulstrode to let him hide behind her in exchange for help with her potions homework. This gives him front row seats to the catastrophe that is pairing Malfoy and Blaise together for a duel: Malfoy has been particularly vicious since Christmas and Blaise doesn't follow the rules on a good day.

It very quickly becomes not a good day.

Malfoy calls attention to Blaise's skirt and seems to get mixed up about whether he wants to tease Blaise for acting like a girl or accuse him of having a crush on Hermione—the jumbled insult is plenty enough to rankle Blaise, however, who snaps out a spell Harry's never heard before. It turns out that Blaise has not actually mastered _Serpensortia_ yet: the large aggressive snake he summoned almost immediately becomes distracted by the crowd around it. Lockhart is useless, Malfoy is shocked, Snape is on the other side of the hall dealing with the older students, and the snake is far too close to the Huffelpuff boy for comfort. Harry jumps out from behind Millicent and tells the snake to stay away from Finch-Fletchley with the same stern tone he uses to get garden snakes out of Aunt Petunia's roses when he's pruning them.

In terms of how much it makes people talk about Harry, the parseltongue thing is apparently on par with the Voldemort thing. Also, Harry's score on the Slytherin betting pool goes up by forty galleons overnight.

Riddle's Diary

Harry has taken to hiding from people in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. He, Blaise and Hermione used it to plot about the Sorcerer's Stone last year, but this year Harry's the only one who frequents it—or not, since technically someone stopped by long enough to throw an empty diary at Myrtle and leave. Harry's never kept a diary before…

Tom Riddle is so perfect. He's easy to talk to, and he gives Harry tantalizing bits of information about anything Harry can think to ask about, even the Chamber of Secrets! For days Harry walks around, quill in hand and nose in the diary, oblivious to the looks he collects (one specific, panicked look in particular). Riddle is always interested to hear about what Harry's been doing, although he's a little pushy when it comes to hearing about the Voldemort thing. Harry really doesn't know much, he insists, his parents are muggles, see—and then Riddle demands a whole explanation of that, and Harry ends up talking all about his wonderful, awesome Aunt Petunia. After three pages of it, Riddle evidently grows bored.

_Yes, I'm sure she's lovely, for a muggle. I want to hear about your real mother._

—and that, that is what makes Harry close the diary. He barely even notices that it's been nicked from his bag in the quidditch lockers while he's in the hospital wing after the stupid house-elf sends the bludger for him. In fact, Harry only remembers it at all when he meets Blaise in the hospital wing after hearing about Hermione. Blaise is not pleased to see Harry, to say the least.

"Now is when you finally decide to show up? While you've been palling around with Malfoy, we've been searching for clues every free minute. I don't let her out of my sight all semester, and the one time I let her go to library alone… If you weren't busy being a prat, you could have been watching her!"

"Blaise, I… I may have a clue about who did it."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> RED FLAG  
> 1\. The entire conceit of these chapters—things Harry does not tell Aunt Petunia—is a sign of unhealthy parent-child relationship. As mentioned before, children should trust their parents enough to let them know they are in mortal danger of being randomly petrified, mangled by a helpful house elf, or being eaten by giant spiders on school grounds… Furthermore, since Harry doesn't confide in anyone else about his anxieties or near-death encounters, hiding more and more things from Aunt Petunia means he is slowly losing the only "support" he has. Children who feel that they cannot talk to anyone, whether because they feel they will be ignored or because they fear being punished, are far more likely to get into *serious* shit, particularly of the "I can't deal with life anymore" variety.
> 
> Notes: The idea of a Slytherin betting pool in second year derives from a fic I read when I was much younger and not wise enough to bookmark fics. Mystery Author, props to you for the delicious irony of having Crabbe and Goyle randomly bet on Voldemort.
> 
> Never thought I'd say this, but kudos to Petunia for stopping Voldemort from possessing Harry Potter. Even in canon Harry could have so, so easily been in Ginny's place. Remember that it takes an accusation of someone Harry holds very dear (Hagrid) and Ginny stealing back the diary for the thing to lose its hold on Harry.


End file.
